


Rain in Our Hearts

by Alys (Madpineapple)



Category: Pandora Hearts
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madpineapple/pseuds/Alys





	Rain in Our Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tiniestdormouse](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tiniestdormouse).



Gilbert was sitting in his secluded spot in the Nightray gardens, smoking cigarette from cigarette and looking to be in deep thought.

But Vincent knew better than that. He was able to tell that something troubled his brother, or when something was not right.

And today, Gilbert had acted strange, from the moment he returned from his last assignment from Pandora. He was tense and seemed absent during the lunch although he said that the mission went well…

Something did not add up. And Vincent was determined to find out and fix it up. After all, his goal was to make his brother happy. And that he would do no matter what.

* * *

Gilbert took a long drag from the smoke and let the spicy and bitter taste envelop him before he exhaled an opaque cloud of smoke. When it cleared out, he was not surprised to see his brother.

Vincent walked languidly through the garden and gracefully sat next to his brother on the bench.

Gilbert sighed and took another mouthful of the smoke, hoping to escape the questions that Vincent had for him.

Because anytime Vincent was this silent and contemplative, it meant that he was going to ask questions… but about what exactly, Gilbert didn’t know.

“Brother had a rough day?” The question was innocent and the sight of Vincent leaning his blonde head against Gilbert’s shoulder was even more innocent.

“You can’t even imagine…” And Gilbert chuckled bitterly, looking up towards the sky. It turned dark and cloudy at an alarmingly fast pace.

“Will you let me make it better?” Vincent asked while he reached for Gilbert’s cigarette. Staring into his brother’s eyes, he put the smoke to his lips and took a drag. Bitterness and euphoria invaded his mind and body, making a sweet groan of bliss worm it’s way through his lips, parted in an exhale.

Gilbert was trying to avoid those eyes; one golden and the other wine red, lest he wanted to be hypnotized into submission.

He was weak; Weak in will, and weak in mind. He could not refuse when Vince offered to give him solace, as he could not refuse the heat and the desire that overtook him when Vincent was like this seductive and silver-tongued and…

Tossing his head back, Gilbert closed his eyes, offering Vincent the sign he needed, the baring of his throat, a large expanse of pale skin, untouched and unmarred, slightly flushed. Something wet splashed on his lips and Gilbert thought Vincent might be crying. It would be uncommon; it was usually him who broke down and cried until his eyes were sore and the pillow or Vincent’s chest was soaked wet.

But it did not taste like tears, salty and sorrowful (or maybe it was just his imagination?). It tasted of water, pure and refreshing.

A loud thunder shook the very ground and Gilbert clung to his brother, startled golden eyes opening to look into similar ones, of the same shape, one of the same colour the other accursed red…But those lips were pulled in a gentle smile, one that Vince shared only with him.

It came all of a sudden, and it took Vincent by surprise when lips pressed onto his, urgent and demanding and much too fast and too much…

Gilbert was not this eager usually; he waited for Vincent to start, to lead them on and to make both of them feel. But in that moment, all he wanted was to give back at least a small part of what Vincent always gives him. He wants to feel and he wants to make him feel.

Most of all he wants to feel alive. He is stained with blood and almost dead inside, tainted with the darkest of sins yet still chasing after a chimera.

His hands bury in sunshine hair, with trembling fingers he caresses and those lips open under his own. Their breaths mingle, the humid air making them shudder.

Raindrops had stained the stone paths and the bench is wet. Their clothes cling onto their bodies, thrumming with need and desire, because only a kiss can bring them just this close to ecstasy.

Gilbert’s face is wet as if stained with tears and Vincent loves it like that, because then Gilbert is the most vulnerable, then he seeks his comfort and his embrace.

With confident hands, Vincent loosens their clothes; he wants to touch skin, he wants heat and passion, and contact.

He relishes in the rough touches Gilbert lays upon his skin when he is erratic, confused, and wanton; that harsh grasp on his hips and the blunt nails leaving welts on his back and shoulders, the wild thrusts and the bites, everything…

He loves them because they come from Gilbert and they all are an expression of how deep his feelings go.


End file.
